Surrender
by The Accomplice of Mr. Stabby
Summary: Jounouchi Katsuya would never give Seto Kaiba what he wants, what he wants being complete and total surrender. But will circumstances change his mind? Yaoi.
1. Mutt

Yo' everybody. This is The Accomplice. The Accomplice wishes to make it known that The Accomplice owns not any of the characters that The Accomplice makes use of in the following prelude to the story that will follow the prelude to the story which is being titled Chapter, the First anyway, though The Accomplice believes it is not of sufficient length to be titled as such. Sadly, The Accomplice was overruled. You should all feel bad for The Accomplice.

As The Accomplice was saying, the characters The Accomplice uses belong to someone who possesses a big long name that The Accomplice does not know, and would be grateful if someone would tell The Accomplice. To do that, you will probably have to review. Hint Hint.

The Accomplice does however own the plot of this prelude after which will follow a story, if The Accomplice ever decides to get off The Accomplice's fat ass to write it. Which the Accomplice may. Eventually. So do not steal it.

The Accomplice would also like to mention that this story, while not currently containing it, will soon contain _it, _it being rape, angst, abuse, sadness, yaoi, some more angst, and yogurt, maybe, just for kicks. In fact, The Accomplice should probably rate this story 'M', but The Accomplice has never rated anything 'M' before, and it makes The Accomplice giddy to think about it (it, not _it_). So when it gets to the _it _(rape, angst, abuse, sadness, yaoi, some more angst, and yogurt, maybe, just for kicks) someone should probably remind The Accomplice to do that, because The Accomplice cannot remember for cheese. For money maybe, but The Accomplice does not like cheese. To do that, you will probably have to review. Hint Hint.

Anyway, do not complain to The Accomplice if the story following this woefully short non-_it-_containing prelude to the probably _it_-containing story mentally scars you in any way, for The Accomplice has given you fair warning.

The Accomplice thanks you for your time.

* * *

_Surrender_

Chapter 1

"The Prelude of Chapter 2 That is Entitled"

**Mutt**

* * *

"You know what," the blonde-haired boy said, honey eyes blazing, "I hate you." 

Cold amusement ascended from the depths of the sea in Seto Kaiba's eyes, the only ocean that didn't turn deep grey when stormy. A devilish smirk settled cat-like on his face, slowly twisting pale lips the color of sunlight through pink stained glass. It was unlike the usual array of humorless crocodile grins the boy possessed, because Jounouchi Katsuya was just too funny for that.

"I know this, dog," he replied degradingly. "I know this because you tell me, oh, let's see, every day I've ever seen you in the entirety of my life. See, unlike you, I actually have a mind, so I am able to decipher complex concepts such as 'I hate you' and even remember them for later usage. Sadly, you don't seem to be that high up the evolutionary ladder. Too bad, maybe you'd finally realize it was pointless to keep yammering at me…"

"Shut the hell up!" A passing aid in the lunchroom glared at Jou before walking on. A group of girls at a nearby table rolled their eyes, another table of females–fangirls this time–booed. They were ignored.

"Just 'cuz you think yer so smart–" Jou began

"–Just _because_ I _**am** _so smart–"

"Don't mean you can be such a friggin' jerk! Who goes around stealin' other people's lunches! _My _lunch–"

"_My_ lunch now, mutt. Get it right." Kaiba told the boy, as he bit gloatingly into the sandwich he'd stolen. He wrinkled his elegant nose at the taste–PB&J, how plain–but unfortunately, Yugi's live and let-live talks had recently been getting to his entertainment, and it had been becoming increasingly harder to provoke him. Stealing his lunch had been, he thought privately, a simply brilliant idea, and eating it in front of him was the icing on the cake–the poor mutt seemed desperate.

"I'm hungry!" he was protesting.

"As am I, mutt," the CEO replied, relishing the look on Jou's face more than the taste of the food he'd just pilfered.

"Well why don't you go ask one of your groupies over there, they'd give you something. C'mon Kaiba, that's all I got!" Katsuya was sorely frustrated with the snobby brunet's constant taunting, and he'd really gone to far this time. Jou was freakin' _starving!_

"Begging, Jounouchi? Why don't you get on your knees and do it like a proper animal, maybe I'll let you have some."

"You fuckin' **_jerk_**!" the blonde practically screamed, earning harsh looks from all the teachers patrolling the cafeteria–a triple threat old lady glare. Jou didn't care. He was practically on the verge of tears when he stormed through the swinging doors that led into the hallway so he could spend the remainder of the lunch period in the bathroom. Kaiba didn't need to know that the lunch Yugi had so kindly provided was probably the only decent thing he would get to eat for days. Rent had just been due, so there wouldn't be much money until his father's next paycheck from the job he barely kept, and most likely, what was left wouldn't be going into food. Jounouchi Ichiro was practically anorexic; he could go for days at a time without food as long as he had his booze. And he wouldn't sign the permission slip that would allow Katusya to get a job either, always insisting that he had everything under control.

Jou sighed as his eyes fell upon the urine-yellow tiles covering the bathroom. He wouldn't have been able to maintain the C-average necessary anyway, though he thought maybe he might be able to pay attention in classif he wasn't so damn hungry all the time.

He turned on the faucet and cupped his hands under it before quickly bringing the metallic tasting water to his lips. A poor excuse for a lunch, his growling stomach told him, but he wasn't going to give Kaiba what he wanted, not when what he wanted was for Jou to give him his complete and utter surrender. He wasn't that desperate, and he couldn't imagine a situation where he ever would be.

He sighed and stared down into the sink bowl and watched something unpleasant try to make its way down the drain under the onslaught of disgusting tap water. He leaned his head against the mirror, where his ragged mane of yellow hair splayed itself out across the chipped glass like a sunset rising over an impoverished, bleak horizon, echoing the reflection of a sad kid who had no idea just how bad things were going to get.

* * *

Seto stared at the doors until they swung for the last time, only vibrating slightly as they settled. And then he kept staring until the bell rang and the entryway was thrown into sudden motion as the flood of complaining, laughing, carefree students exited in a rush of noise that Kaiba heard through even more of a filter than usual. 

He blinked and shook his head, grabbing his schoolbag and tossing the sandwich behind him where he thought the trashcan probably was, uncaring if it actually landed in the target. The CEO then rushed to his next class, English, where he tried very hard to convince himself that the knot that was tightening in his stomach every time he thought of what he'd just done was disappointment that his prey had escaped so soon before he could _really _begin to goad him, and not guilt. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel he'd crossed some invisible line when he'd stolen the boy's lunch, and that wasn't nearly as funny as it sounded. Had there been tears in the blonde's eyes? Was it just his imagination, or did the phrase 'I'm hungry' take on an especially black tone that implied it's meaning went so far beyond a simple casual usage when Jounouchi said it?

Kaiba shook his head. His mind was playing tricks on him–Mokuba was right, he wasn't getting enough sleep. When the mutt got home, he'd probably gorge himself on junkfood and then call his friends to complain what a jerk 'moneybags' was and they'd all have a good laugh about it. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the mutt.

…And since when did he worry about the mutt?

* * *


	2. Two Paper Bags

Wow! Whoo and behold the suckiness that is the short sucky chapter. The Accomplice would have made it longer, but it just kind of ended on The Accomplice. Sorry.

Oh, and The Accomplice doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Oh, and thanks **Lady Psychic **for reviewing The Accomplice.The Accomplice thinks you're real nice. Oh yeah, it shall be very interesting. By the way, The Accomplice enjoyed your use of the word shall. It was very refreshing. And The Accomplice also thanks you for telling The Accomplice of The Accomplice's run-on words. The Accomplice hasn't a clue what in blazes The Accomplice was thinking. The Accomplice thinks The Accomplice fixed that pretty good. The Accomplice blames FF; it's screwy.

Notice the rating went up. The Accomplice is not gonna put another warning in there, because you should be like, 'Oh, look, the rating!' and not like 'Oh, yeah, I gonna be stupid and not infer this story might get graphic!' So yeah.

Anyway, thanks for your time again. And review. Please?

* * *

_Surrender_

Chapter 2

"The Prelude of Chapter 3 That is Entitled"

**Two Paper Bags**

* * *

Jou grumbled as he tried to forced open the door to his building. It got stuck a lot, usually on cold days when you wanted to get inside as quickly as possible, but today it didn't annoy Katsuya as much as it usually did; he'd stumbled into a good mood. On the way out of detention he'd taken a quick look through the trash for something edible so he wouldn't go entirely unfed for the weekend. Low and behold, he'd found two lunches sitting untouched atop the receptacles without even having to pick through anything nasty.

The blonde sighed happily as the stubborn door finally budged and he stepped inside the building, clutching the paper-bag lunch he hadn't yet devoured protectively. It wasn't a very fancy affair – the entrance led to a concrete staircase that stank of urine and led down to the basement, where there was a coin-operated washer and dryer. Upstairs were the tenants' apartments and higher then that the roof, where some hopeless people tried to catch a stray breeze on sweltering city days. He lived on the fourth story with his father in a three-room dwelling with his Dad. The landlord lived on the first floor.

Speaking of the landlord, here she came now…

"Jounouchi!" she cried in her cat-screech voice, tying her faded blue bathrobe around her waste as she came out onto the landing, orange flip-flops protecting her from the questionable contents of the mucky puddles. "Jounouchi!" she said again, as if he hadn't heard her the first time.

"Hi, Nagano-san," said Katsuya, confused. Nagano Keiko hardly ever stopped to chat with her tenants. She was a pretty woman in her late forties, though Jou thought her cheaply died blonde hair was an offset to her natural good looks. Usually when he saw here she was heavily made up with a lot of black gunk around her eyes and big, chunky earrings. But now her straw-like hair was sopping wet and drooped shapelessly around her face and there was no make-up improving her complexion.

"I was just in the shower when I heard you come in," she told him. "Just wanted to let you know that you don't live here anymore."

Jounouchi stared, uncomprehending. "W-what?" he finally managed.

"Yeah, sorry," the woman told him. "But I really can't afford to keep you guys any longer. That's two months now I haven't gotten your rent, not to mention all the other times you've missed payment." She shrugged.

The befuddled blonde was still staring. After a few seconds pause, he blurted, "Bud Dad told me he paid it! And last month too! And he paid you back all the times he missed, and it wasn't that many, he said–"

"Well your Dad's a goddamn liar," Nagano told him. "I guess he went and pissed all the money away in some bar somewhere, cuz' I certainly didn't get it. These people, I swear, they just keep tellin' themselves that everythin's gonna be Okay, and then…" she shook her head in either disgust or sympathy.

Jounouchi felt the first stirrings of anger at his father's incompetence, but the urgency of the situation at hand and his never-failing reserve of family loyalty, as always, quickly crushed and ill-will he was feeling towards Jounouchi Sr.

"Listen, it's November," he pleaded with his landlord, "And if you kick us out now we got the whole winter on the streets. Just let us stay a little longer. I'll straighten him out, I swear."

"Sorry," she shrugged. "I been losin' money with you two for too long. But listen. If you two manage to get all thecash from all the times you didn't pay me and you get it to me in two weeks, I'll hold the apartment for you. Not that it's ever gonna happen,a course; you owe me too much. But just for my conscience's sake…"

Jou's fists clenched behind his back. She was right; they'd never make that. "Please, you gotta give us another chance…"

Nagano sighed again and absently brushed her fingers through her hair, slicing through the tangles with long red nails. She shook her head. "Real' sorry about this. You don't have to go back up there; your Dad took everything when he left. He said meet him at that coffee place down near the stone bridge, you know the one–"

"Yeah I know it," Jou muttered, dazed. He backed out of the chipped doorframe and was halfway down the street, running on autopilot, when he crashed into a telephone pole and harsh reality returned, along with a lump on the head.Staring up at the darkening city, the boy tried in vain to fight off a hopelessness so consuming he thought it would eat him alive and spit up his bones, if they managed to survive.

Something wet hit his face. At first he thought he might be crying. Then he realized it had started to rain.


	3. Of Rain and Selling your Soul

Ch. 3

**Of Rain and Selling Your Soul**

* * *

Kaiba had stopped working. He was listening to the rain. 

It was some time around 7 o'clock, he guessed, but it was too dark to see anything, much less the clock in his office; the glow of the computer didn't penetrate even a centimeter beyond its surface into the night. And his inner clock had a margin of error that spanned about three hours, so he really had no idea what time it was. Anyhow, about half-an-hour ago (more or less) came the great clattering of what sounded like a thousand sweaty rhinoceroses charging from the building amidst choruses of 'Thank God it's Friday!', leaving the place in silence until the weekend was over, when the temporarily freed buffoons from the hectic zoo Seto sometimes thought he was running would return reluctantly amid groans of 'Goddamn it's Monday'. The only people working in the offices during the in-between time were himself, one or two employees with deadlines to meet, and his security staff, of whom at least one walked around sucking on hard candy and leaving the wrappers lying behind the odd potted plant.

Today however, the rain made it sound like his workers hadn't been so eager to leave. The falling liquid pattering endlessly against the roof and windows was the sound of the hundreds upon thousands of moving keyboards, voices all merged into one chaotic thunder. The occasional screech of a skidding car was the yawn and creaky stretch of somebody who'd just finished an assignment and was enjoying a brief lapse before they were loaded with more work. The rush of planes ascending leisurely from the nearby airport were the whoosh of elevators as they went up and down and up and down; an endless cycle of repetition lived in vertical shafts and numbered, light-up buttons, chipped black paint slowly peeling away.

The fact that he had an entire ghost labor force on his hands right now amused Kaiba and comforted him at the same time, enough so that he didn't feel he was abandoning a somewhat time-consuming pet when he decided to leave for home earlier than normal. Mokuba would be happy, no doubt, and he might be able to sleep in peace with the fact that his over-active imagination was watching over his life's accomplishment. Not that it couldn't take care of itself, of course, he'd made sure of that. But still.

The CEO stood and caught a yawn in the middle of his throat before descending through the deserted hallways of the building. Everything was empty, quiet, and dark–it was a nice contrast to the bright lights and fumbling employees who usually yelped, tripped, and ran into something upon seeing his shadow.

Seto entered the garage and walked towards his limo, feeling slight amusement as he watched his chauffeur hastily swung his feet off the dash and threw the racy magazine he'd been looking at into the glove compartment when he saw his master approaching. Scrambling awkwardly, he just managed to jump out of the limo in time to open the door for his boss. The boy reclined in the back seat comfortably. Today had been relatively productive, and he felt reasonably content.

"Where to, sir?" the driver asked, buckling his seatbelt and beginning to regain his nerves from the sight of his employer's unexpected and early appearance.

"Where do you think Kent, the candy store?" Kaiba replied. Aramaki Kenta peered over his shoulder to see the brunette smirking as he leaned back with closed eyes. He turned frontward and gritted his teeth–usually when an employer new all his staffs' names and referred to them by them, it was a sign of friendliness and a refreshing un-assholiness. But Kenta new from long experience that this kid just liked being able to single out his servants and torment them. Seriously. 'Kent'.

But he still had to put up with it. "Home, sir?"

"You're growing brighter by the minute, Kenty." And the man wondered why so many servants had attempted assassination. Kenta wondered vainly why he'd ever accepted this job as he pulled out of the lot.

Seto grinned. He didn't usually pick on his personal staff like this (depending on your definition of 'usually'), but Aramaki was so like Jounouchi it was funny. He could imagine the chauffeur's reaction to him if he wasn't in his service. It would probably be blind fury. The brunette's mind wandered to what it would be like if he had the mutt working for him too, unable to resist degrading remarks for fear of being fired. It would be hilarious to hear Jou call him 'sir'…

Then he remembered the look on Jou's face at lunch, and his good mood evaporated. He scowled as the unfamiliar knotted feeling took hold of his stomach again.

He prevented himself from growling; he was not a hypocrite. He was not feeling even the faintest signs of sympathy. And he did not care about that damned dog.

* * *

Jou leaned against the rough bark of one of the trees adding to the scenery of the picturesque bridge that connected Domino's quaint town shopping center to the scenic park over the river, feeling numb. Though it looked like a charming but unnecessary structure, the bridge actually spanned a deep, fast river. The blonde considered jumping in, but quickly discarded the plan; it was just an idle fancy. He could never do something like that. 

Instead, Jounouchi watched his father through hooded eyes. It was too dark and wet to see anything but his shape. He could see the figure tugging at his hair, itching his nose. Occasionally he would stand up and twist around, searching, before sitting back down again and taking refuge from the rain in the bus shelter in front of the coffee shop. Katsuya had lived with the man all his life; he could tell he was nervous. That was bad; his father viewed getting drunk as a cure for nerves.

Finally, Jou stuffed his apprehension and cautiously walked forward to meet his Dad. As soon as the man saw him, he jumped up, overwhelmingly relieved, and crushed his son in a back-breaking hug.

Jounouchi Sr. was very capable of giving back-breaking hugs. He'd used to play football for his high school, before getting kicked off the team because he'd been caught with alcohol too many times. He was easily just as tall, maybe taller, than Kaiba, with brawny features and uncombed, sandy hair a shade or two lighter than his son's. Like Jou, his wardrobe was made up of old, ill-fitting clothes. The boy thought that their scraggly appearance didn't mesh very well with the endearing, family owned shops that lined the streets. If he remembered correctly, Yugi and his family lived here above their game shop, though more out of the thick of things. Most of the shops' lights were out; he'd been very slow in coming.

"Ya' scalawag!" Ichiro exclaimed. "I've been waitin' hours! Ya' tryin' to give yer old man the slip?" He grinned.

Like always, his father's voice made any ill feelings Katsuya had about him dissipate. He wasn't a bad man, really, he just drank a little too much. And he seemed pretty sober right now. "Course not," he laughed. "Just think a' the trouble you'd get into without me!"

The elder of the pair grinned again, and released his son. "M' glad yer here, anyways. Been gettin' lonely."

"Mm," Jou agreed, suddenly reminded of the situation at hand. "Uh, Dad?" he asked. "What're we gonna do?"

"What are 'ya talkin' about? We'll be fine! We just gotta make some loose ends' meet, is all!" The older man's face had taken on a darker cast. The blonde stopped himself from flinching. Ichiro was not one for dealing with problems; mostly he chose to ignore them. Back in high school, when his father (Jou's grandfather) had abandoned their family and his mother had started giving him a hard time, drinking had helped him do that. For a brief period after meeting Jou's mother he had started getting help and they were happily married. But when their relationship had started hitting some crags, he'd gone back to his old way of dealing with life, which only made things worse. Finally, Katsuya's mom left, taking his sister with her, leaving him with a defective father who had a dangerous habit of ignoring reality.

"Dun' worry, it won't be hard," he said assuredly. Jounouchi noticed he'd started to sweat. "We're just gonna get rid of some old crap we don't need, 'kay?"

"'Kay," the boy said cautiously, watching his dad fish around in the two trash bags that held all their possessions.

"Here," he said, handing some stuff to his son. "These first. There's a card shop I saw, Turtle shop or somethin', you can sell 'em there. I'm gonna take this stuff to a little pawnshop I saw in that direction–"

Jou didn't hear the rest of the sentence. He was staring at the familiar objects his father had placed in his hand so nonchalantly. It was his duel deck, and disk, along with some other dueling accessories given to him by his friends. Oh no, he thought, oh no, no, no, no no.

"I can't sell these," he said abruptly.

Ichiro looked up. "What d'ya mean, you can't sell 'em?"

"I can't," Jou repeated. "Don't ask me to, because I can't." He didn't know what was happening to him. He felt so numb and separate from the whole situation. This was his life right here. The first time he met Yugi. The first lessons Grandpa had given him, setting the pathway for his entire game. The time he'd jumped off a cruise ship after Yugi's cards. Meeting Mai. Winning his Red Eyes. Defeating Bandit Keith. And then witnessing Kaiba's human side, and then his sister's operation, and then being humiliated by Otogi, and then meeting Malik, and the Battle City finals, and then his friendship duel with Yugi, and… everything. It was all here. His whole life. And his Dad wanted him to _sell _it?

But Ichiro was oblivious. "That's bull. Yer sixteen years old, why don't ya' start actin' like it?"

"But I've won money with dueling!" the blonde cried desperately, choosing to ignore the fact that it was actually Yugi who'd done that. "I got three mil, once. I could do it again. Dad, you can't–"

"Three million, ya' say? Well I never saw it. Face it Jou, this whole thing is just a fad, and yer to caught up in it to realize it. I dun' know why I didn't stop this before, it's just a waste a' time…"

"Dad…" the blonde whispered pleadingly.

"No, don't start. Git on out a' here, and grow up. Unless you think games are more important than havin' a house to live in, a' course…"

For a short second, the blonde stared uncomprehendingly at his grumbling father, then turned down the street and walked slowly onwards, as if to his own funeral. What'd I do? he wondered numbly. What'd I do?

* * *

Oh wow. Sadnesses upon sadnesses. What will happen next? 

Oh, right the accomplice knows. Because the accomplice is writing the story. Tee hee.

(note: the accomplice is choosing not to capitalize hereself because the accomplice is having some self-esteem issues. Feel bad.)

the accomplice thanks **seto'swifey **for reviewing. What willl happen to your poor Jou indeed! the accomplice apologizes, it gets no better.

**Lady Psychic**, once again you have awed the accomplice with that word. _Shall. _So awsome. And it wasn't soon, butthe accomplicedid update. And it was fairly long. For the accomplice. Anyway, the accomplice will try for speed next time.

**FanFicFanGurl101: **Wow, that was a mouthful. Keyboard full. Whatever. Once again, it wasn't soon, but the accomplice tries.

**Lady Laran:**the accomplice feels that it is in Kaiba's nature to be mean, at least in this story. the accomplice may well right one in which he's a big softy. That's the thing with Kaiba, he masks his true personality, so you only have hints at what he's really like. So the author is free to play with his personality. That's why writing him is so fun.As for Jou's friends, the accomplice hasn't quite figured out how the accomplice will incorporate them, though she knows she needs to because there a big part of Jou's life. If you've got any ideas of that...

Anyway. So yeah, the accomplice is done. For now. the accomplice shall be updating as soon as time will allow. So goodbye. And review, please! the accomplice enjoys your thoughts.


End file.
